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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27743029">Out of the Frying Pan</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Boisterous_Bananas/pseuds/Bright_Boisterous_Bananas'>Bright_Boisterous_Bananas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Avatar &amp; Benders Setting, Bending (Avatar), College AU, Drabble, Eventual love confessions, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Kindness, Meet-Cute, Modern AU, One Shot, Passionate kisses, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Protective Zuko (Avatar), Romance, Sort Of, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Zuko is making a teapot and I'm melting over it, Zutara, adorable pottery making foolishness, goodness, possible multi-chap, pottery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:41:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,293</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27743029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Boisterous_Bananas/pseuds/Bright_Boisterous_Bananas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting caught bending an element is unthinkable. The punishment could be catastrophic. </p><p>Still, Katara must finish her pottery project on time or her grade will suffer.</p><p>When the unimaginable happens, and all seems lost, an unexpected ally steps forward in her moment of need.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katara &amp; Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I adore the ATLA TV series and these two goons in particular, lol! &lt;3</p><p>A quick note, a word I use a lot in this fic is "kiln". Incase anyone isn't familiar with it, a kiln is basically an oven in which pottery is baked. &lt;3</p><p>I hope you enjoy this little College AU &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Katara’s breath is shallow as she glances around the studio; no one is looking. The agony of indecision swirls within her, freezing her momentarily.</p><p>If she does this, her assignment will be completed on time. If she is caught, the consequences of bending an element are severe.</p><p>The semester has been hectic, with Sokka deployed and her Father ill; if she doesn’t finish this project, her grade will be irreparable. </p><p>She gulps. Expulsion, imprisonment, and possibly death have been the punishment for bending, by creed of the Regent, Ozai, since he was elected. Katara’s hands feel clammy and she shakily wipes them on her leggings.</p><p>The students on either side of her are absorbed in their work, diligently forming their own clay pots. </p><p>The quiet boy, with pretty eyes and a mysterious scar, who sits next to her, is currently fastening a handle to his teapot. <em> He’s had the whole semester and he’s barely spoken a word to me</em>; he would have made a move already if he was interested, her mind supplies.</p><p>She shakes herself, pulling her mind back to the present. No one will notice, it would only take a moment, a simple swipe of her hand and her bowl would be ready for the kiln.</p><p>Her decision is made. With a final glance about the room, she closes her eyes, pulling her focus inward, to the quiet center of her power. It thrums to life and she waves her hand over the moist clay. </p><p>Gently, the water is drawn out, pooling around the bowl. She snatches a nearby towel and dabs it up. She tests the structure with her finger, it’s bone dry; perfect. She grins, feeling smug. </p><p>Unnoticed, the quiet boy smiles to himself.</p><p>Picking up her bowl, Katara walks with a slight prance in her step to the kiln room where she places it carefully on the shelf to be fired that evening.</p><p>Professor Pakku will be pleased that her project was turned in promptly.</p><hr/><p>“I saw her! She’s a bender!” Jet snarls as he drags Katara into Pakku’s office.</p><p>God, she hates Jet, with his holey jeans and his rumpled hair. More arrogant than a seagull after a food heist.</p><p>Professor Pakku stands calmly from his chair. “Release her, Jet, she is not an animal.” He runs a thoughtful hand through his silver beard.</p><p>Katara grunts as her long brown waves are disentangled from Jet’s claw.</p><p>She turns to Pakku, eyes wild.“Professor! Please listen, I didn’t--” </p><p>He raises a hand. “I’m sorry Katara, unless another witness comes forward, I must report this to the dean.”</p><p>Her stomach is sinking. This is it. She’ll be expelled, or worse. She grips her hair in a fit of fear.</p><p>“Professor!” It’s the quiet boy, he seemingly materialized next to her. His voice commands authority. “I was there, she didn’t do it, she’s not a bender.” He gestures behind him, and to Katara’s surprise, the entire class has squeezed into the hallway.</p><p>They chime in, agreeing with the boy. </p><p>“I was there too!” </p><p>“She’s innocent!” They cry out, talking over one another.</p><p>Pakku raises his hand again for silence. Katara gapes at the quiet boy who gives her a look which she translates to <em> play along.  </em></p><p>She gulps, unable to control her breathing, from fear and something else.</p><p>“Jet,” Pakku continues calmly. “This isn’t the first time you have accused someone falsely. I am reporting you to the dean.”</p><p>“What!” Jet’s mouth falls open.</p><p>Katara inwardly fist pumps, shooting him a smug look of victory.</p><hr/><p>“Katara! Wait!” A voice stops her in the parking lot.</p><p>She turns to see the mysterious scar coming into view; he stops in front of her.</p><p>“Thank you,” She looks down, suddenly losing her ability to string words together. “For what you did.”</p><p>“I know you’re a bender.” He smiles knowingly.</p><p>She gasps and does a quick scan of her surroundings, panic rising in her chest.</p><p>“It’s okay,” He reassures. “I won’t tell anyone.”</p><p>Something about the look in his eyes makes her trust him. She nods, trying not to stare at his strong chest or the way his red flannel fits him perfectly.</p><p>“What’s your name?” Her mouth feels dry.</p><p>“Zuko.” He suddenly looks shy and bites his lip. “Here.” He holds up what looks like...her bowl.</p><p>A gasp escapes her lips again as she looks upon her creation. The clay is hard and lighter in color. It looks like it’s already been through the kiln.</p><p>“How did you-”</p><p>“I’m a bender too.” He speaks softly.</p><p>He hands her the bowl, it’s still warm. Their fingers brush momentarily during the exchange. Her small gasp is not unnoticed.</p><p>He grins roguishly before spinning on his heel. “See you round.” He winks.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Into the fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's been a rough year, and when an important appointment slips Katara's mind, an unlikely helper appears. Again.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for checking out this little fic! I appreciate all the comments and encouragement, I have indeed more chapters for you!</p>
<p>No warnings for this chapter!</p>
<p>I might up the rating later, but for now, i'll leave it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Ahem.” Zuko clears his throat, and as he does so, he places a newly made mug in front of Katara.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A wall of cologne hits her like a soft mist. The smell of him shakes her to the core, and it really doesn’t help that he wears his flannel rolled up his Godly forearms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Get. It. Together. Katara.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shoots a quick glance about the studio, no one is looking; they’ve consistently been extra careful. Smiling shyly, she quickly waves her hand over the moist clay and instantly it becomes bone dry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zuko smirks his reply and snatches up the mug; there’s a swagger in his step as he makes his way to the kiln room.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“Ahem.” Katara slides into view, placing her mug on the stone floor in front of Zuko.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles devilishly as he looks up from his pottery wheel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the magic word? Or phrase, rather.” A glint of mischief in his eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t realize we were gate keeping our skills.” She rolls her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” He tilts his head to the side, “When I found out that you don’t ship Draco and Hermione, I had to take precautions.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Katara snorts. “I’m not saying it!” She raises her chin, feigning defiance as her smile betrays her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pair have become closer; helping each other finish their ceramic projects. She drys out the clay and he bakes it. Professor Pakku is blissfully unaware and also blissfully pleased that his students are excelling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on,” That smile. “For me.” Zuko pries, flicking a piece of clay at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh.” She can’t say no when he smiles like that. “Fine…” She clears her throat and straightens her blue sweater. “Sunshine, daisies, butter-mellow, Draco and Hermione are pretty swell though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zuko chokes down his laughter and then waves his hand over her mug. It quickly heats, turning molten red; trails of steam spring up as it cools. Katara splashes water on it. from a nearby bucket to speed up the cooling. She splashes Zuko in the face, for good measure, who laughs harder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes playfully and scoops up her mug from the floor.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit! How could I be so foolish! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Katara’s mind is racing and misfiring as she speeds down the highway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Long story short, her car is almost twelve months overdue for registration. The kind policeman gave her a warning, but with the condition that she needs to get it registered by the end of the day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had been waiting in line at the BMV for hours and it slipped her mind that her father was waiting to be driven to his chemotherapy appointment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She frantically dials her phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad! I’m so sorry, I was stopped by the police and then-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Katara.” Hakoda’s kind voice chimes on the other end. “You’re friend gave me a ride, I’m at my appointment now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My who?” Her mind skids and falls off the rails.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Says his name is Zuko.” His voice drops to a whisper. “And he’s quite handsome too, I might add.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A burning flush swells up her spine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zuko helped my Dad? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Katara barrels down the hallway of the hospital, her hair loose and flying. The oppressive fluorescent lights blink a little as if to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re a failure.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There, at the end of the hall, seated calmly in the waiting room, is Zuko, currently engrossed in a magazine titled “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ba Sing Baked” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The leading pottery magazine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her chelsea boots screech on the floor as she halts in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She starts speed talking. “Zuko, I’m so sorry, I was at the BMV and--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s ok.” He smiles softly, setting aside the publication to stand. “I don’t mind helping--I--I like helping.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Humble pie never tastes good, but gratitude swells up with it, and she is overcome. Her words are stolen from her as tears threaten her eyes and emotion constricts her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I--I..Thank you.” She gulps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, c’mere.” Zuko gently pulls her in for a hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She lets herself fall apart for a minute. His arms are so strong and so soft as they envelope her. She can’t remember the last time she had a hug like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pressing her face into his shoulder, her tears wet his flannel and his neck. Bottled emotions tumble out. It’s been a rough year, with her father’s diagnosis and Sokka being away. Everything fell on her shoulders and it’s nearly unbearable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zuko makes a soothing sound and rubs her back. “It’s ok, I’m happy to help. I can help any time you want, ok?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Katara nods into his neck. She really doesn’t want to leave his arms. While she is blissfully enjoying his embrace, a thought pokes through her consciousness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How did he know where to pick up Dad?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her breath stops. She doesn’t remember ever telling Zuko her home address. He must have known it in order to pick him up and bring him here. Last she checked her house address isn’t listed anywhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zuko,” Her eyebrows come together as she pulls back. “How did you know where I live?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His face draws up into a guilty wince and his hand scrubs the back of his neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A million terrible scenarios collide in her mind. Is he a serial killer? A stalker? Will she be murdered in her sleep? She’s only known him for a few months and she should have known better than to trust so eagerly. Damn his pretty eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zuko, </span>
  <em>
    <span>how did you know where I live?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Her tone is charged. “I swear to God, if you try to hurt me or my Dad I will--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He raises his hands in surrender, “I am not your enemy, Katara.” His face is suddenly serious, “We can’t talk here.” his eyes shift about the room, there’s a few people at the other end of the waiting room. “There’s something you need to know.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Zuko waves his hand over the kindling and the fire pit swirls to life. The warmth soothes Katara’s bones in the chilly November evening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s grateful for the fire but she’s still leary of Zuko. She’s patiently waited three hours to speak privately with him. And It didn’t help that Hakoda so willingly invited him for dinner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her Father and Zuko got along famously, chatting endlessly about construction. Hakoda has been keen on remodeling the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a filling meal, Hakoda retired early; Zuko and Katara stole away to the roof.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zuko hops up from his chair, across from Katara, and shrugs off his jacket. He wraps her shoulders, nods in approval of the placement and then settles in his chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The gesture is unsettling and something else. She suddenly doesn't need the fire for warmth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a long pause, neither one meeting the other’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re not my enemy, then what are you?” The question has been eating her alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am the Regent’s son.” Zuko says without looking up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well shit. If she had known, she would have dressed up a bit more. She shifts awkwardly, adjusting her leggings and sweater dress. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another pause.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Katara studies him for a moment,“There isn’t an ounce of pride in your voice.” she takes notice of his slumped posture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There isn’t an ounce of pride in </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>voice either, when he talks about me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The gravity of his words hit Katara in her heart. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I”m not.” He meets her eyes and there is something determined and brave there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She admires the look in his eyes; one of stubbornness and honesty. They peer at her like a storm, but soft, and keen like a lion, but gentle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She swallows a little harder than expected. “I need to know how--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How I knew where you live.” He finishes, sighing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scoots his chair closer and runs a hand through his hair. “What I am about to tell you, you can’t tell anyone, understand?” He drops his voice, so the echo doesn’t carry across the rooftops. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sits up, concern flooding her. “Okay.” She croaks, pulling the jacket closer around her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zuko eye’s are serious and fear suddenly grips her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Katara,” He reaches for her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pulls it away, “I don’t need you to hold my hand.” She’s too desperate to know the truth and physical touch is too distracting right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t look hurt, just concerned. “There aren’t many water benders left. The few that remain are being hunted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A thousand terrible futures are unfurling before her mind’s eye. The chill of the night suddenly pierces the warmth from the fire. Dread is sinking into her bones, pulling her into the black abyss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She reaches for Zuko’s hand. He clasps it, folding his other hand on top and rubbing lightly. He sends a pulse a warmth through her hands and it flows up her arms and into her torso. It’s comforting and she finds her strength.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meeting his eyes, she asks, “Who is hunting me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he looks back at her, his eyes are tortured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swallows.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dun dun DUUUUUUUN!!!!!!!!!</p>
<p>When Zuko rolls up his sleeves. I die LOL</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p><p>Any interest in a part two?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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